


29

by deltachye



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Other, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x wendell bray]29 might not have been a milestone, but it was groundbreaking all the same.





	

“29. Big day, huh?”  
  
The intern glanced up from his work and beamed at you, before his face dropped to a frown. He invited you into the bone room, where you walked in hesitantly. Unlike the others, you were merely HRM — and a dabbler in fiction, which was probably why the squints liked you so much, because your stories and theories did fairly well in pointing the team in the right directions. You sighed through your nose when you saw the empty sockets stare up at you from the cold table. Wendell noticed your discomfort and stepped in front of your view, distracting you from the skeleton.  
  
“Hardly. It’s sort of like, 15. Or 17. Nothing really special before the big milestone.”  
  
You chuckled. “I’m sure you were special at every age, Bray. It’s probably me who’s had an entire lifetime equivalent to ‘before the milestone’.”   
  
He laughed at your wry joke before promptly looking at the ground, biting his lip that was still stretched in a big smile. “Ah, well, you can say you’re a milestone yourself.”  
  
You forced away a delighted grin and decided to change the subject, ignoring your fluttery heart. Playful flirting was just that. Fun.   
  
_You’re not a child anymore_ , you thought to yourself firmly. Then, because your resolve was still weak,  _don’t you dare do it, dammit._  
  
“I, uh, haven’t gotten you a present yet. I totally forgot to ask about your birthday.”   
  
“Oh, you don’t need to get me anything at all. Just being around you ’s enough.”  
  
Again, your stomach lurched and you felt like you needed to hold onto something lest you throw yourself off a bridge. He was too kind, too smart, too  _attractive_  — nobody should be able to have it all. Instead, you shook your head rapidly.  
  
“You got me that great book for my birthday, remember? I can’t just leave you with a beer for yours.”  
  
“Actually that sounds perfect.” He wiggled an eyebrow at you, but you rolled your eyes instead. You hadn’t exactly lied when you told him you’d forgotten to ask — because you didn’t need to, really. You had all of the medico-legal staff’s personal summary folders in your desk, including that one intern’s birthday. You had just never figured out what was a good gift, and when the day came, you were — and still are — empty handed.  
  
“Nope. You’re 29! You’ve gotta want  _something_  before breaking 30. Before you know it, you’ll have a wife, kids…” You felt a tinge of sadness as you said this, because it brought up the fact that Wendell would probably marry one of his beautiful friends, leaving you in the dust, staring at his personal summary folder. You weren’t exceptional. Not like Dr. Brennan: a genius and exceptional in her field. You weren’t Angela, a gorgeous and talented artist. You weren’t Dr. Saroyan, or any other person. You were plain old you from HR, mediocre writer, dropping by to sign off papers or make up some sappy story about some bones and occasionally be accurate enough to  _maybe_  help the investigation. Wendell was everything. You weren’t anything.   
  
“Wow, you’ve got high expectations from me, Miss. HR. Okay. You want to give me something?” He stepped forwards to you, smiling a cheeky sort of smirk, and was close enough that you could catch a waft of some cologne that immediately made your knees weak.  
  
“Only for the best, Mr. Intern.” You matched his mocking tone easily, feeling the competitive spirit inside of you rise. You cocked your weight to the side and rested your hands on your waist. “Shoot.”  
  
“I’d like… a kiss.”  
  
At first you didn’t quite register, your mind immediately popping to the chocolates. That was easy enough, you could stop by the store at lunch —  
  
Oh.  
  
Your face flared with heat and you felt like flying off a cliff into the sea where you would be swept away forever. Kiss?  _Wendell_? It wasn’t like you’d never dreamt about it before, but there was no way you could do it. You just didn’t have the courage. You were Miss. HR, lowly author, lame and —  
  
“Are you okay? Sorry, did I say something — ”  
  
Apologizing. Of course he would, he was so perfect. This made you explode with a strong annoyed frustration and you lunged forwards, grabbing the collar of his grey lab coat. You leant forwards on the tips of your toes and kissed him, your embarrassment and fluster forgotten as you indulged in a passion, an ardor, which couldn’t match anything words could ever describe.   
  
When you pulled back, your face was still red, and you couldn’t catch your breath. He had a completely blank face, so much so that you were slightly concerned.  
  
“Wendell?” you asked quietly, worried that maybe you’d suffocated him.   
  
“That… I was wrong. This is the best birthday ever.”  
  
\---  
  
“Damn, dude, I thought you would’ve totally forgotten about this bet. I actually hoped on it.”  
  
Wendell scoffed dryly, kicking at a few loose stones on the pavement. His mind drifted to what Hodgins would say; probably some incredible nerdy, overly scientific wording about the origins of the rock with a slipped in note about how aliens could have invaded the Earth through the early impacts of meteoroids. He smiled, hardly noticeable in the dim lighting of the moon, but it was there all the same. Yeah. He’d won. To be with those people, especially  _you_ …  
  
“You don’t need to pay me, man, I know how you’re doing with the rent and wife — ”  
  
“Who said I’m giving over the money?” The other Bray had a glimmer in his eye, and Wendell was reminded of the tougher times when money was gold and treasure to them both. He had to sigh.  
  
“You need me to actually prove to you that I’m not a  _loser_? Come on.”  
  
“Yeah, bro. It’s 200. You gotta have the meat.”  
  
“Seriously…” He sighed deeply and thought about all the things he’d thought about earlier. He worked with people who were the top in the  _world_  — and he was wanted. He had awesome friends, he was a well trained anthropologist…  
  
“I met a girl.”  
  
The other brother whistled sarcastically. “Dude. Like Cheryl Cates?”  
  
Wendell shuddered. “No. No way. This girl… she’s just…”  
  
His brother stopped chewing on his food and was silent. Even when Wendell gave up on a word to describe you, because there was none known to English, he was still. He wordlessly drew out his wallet and peeled out two crinkled hundreds, and handed them to Wendell.  
  
“That’s it?” He asked, after safely pocketing the money. “You don’t want to hear more?”  
  
“Nah. You ain’t no loser if you know a girl like that.”


End file.
